Sohn Kitae (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
protension) wrote2016-04-11 09:48 pm
protension) wrote2016-04-11 09:48 pm
(no subject)
A single red blot slowly spread out across the grimy off white sink rim, adding more stains to the already disgusting surface. The state of cleanliness in this house was appalling, and one would think when one of the residents of the house barely left the premise she might dedicate some time to cleaning up the place. Who the hell wanted to live in a revolting pit like this one? Kitae certainly didn't, but that may be why his bedroom was the only clean, well kept room in this rotting hole of a house.
The whole place was falling apart around him. The furniture was threadbare, and the cushions so worn that even reupholstering them wouldn't help their current condition. Besides, the owners of this house didn't have the money for something like that. They didn't have the money to fix the constantly dripping in the kitchen sink, or the flooding of the toilet on the first floor (the toilet no one was allowed to use anymore). The didn't have the funds to redo the faulty wiring that would probably set this whole pathetic building on fire. And god knows when it did it would collapse in seconds with the support structures ready to crumble to nothing at any moment.
The people in this house were falling apart too, rotting away into nothing. The woman, Kitae's mother, barely left her room. She didn't like to deal with people out of the house, but then again she didn't like to deal with people in the house either. She was a small, cowardly woman who barely spoke to her own son. When she saw him she would try to quickly slink unseen into another room. When she was caught and cornered her conversation never went past meek and shallow inquiries about how he was doing in school. Why she bothered to ask Kitae could never guess, it wasn't as if she really cared what her son was doing with his life. If it was up to her she'd live in this house alone. Away from the son that reminded her she had a responsibility she never wanted. Away from her drunk of a husband with the temper of a child.
He wasn't Kitae's father. That wasn't Kitae's attempt to disconnect himself from a drunken idiot, it was simply the truth. Though his mom barely spoke to him she did share this secret with Kitae once when he was nine, including producing a well hidden picture of the man behind his existence.
The resemblance was undeniable, and instead of feeling like his world was being torn apart by this sudden revelation Kitae felt relief. Deep, immediate relief that this man he'd spent most of his life hating wasn't related to him by blood.
Then again, that lack of resemblance was probably why Sohn Hoseong started hitting Kitae in the first place.
The fact that Kitae couldn't manage to be in a room with Sohn Hoseong for longer than five minutes without insulting him is probably why the blows kept coming well into his teenage years.
Not taking his eyes off his own reflection in the mirror, Kitae reached up and slowly ran a thumb over the massive slip in his bottom lip. This one wouldn't be as easy to cover up as some of the bruises he got. Anything on his arms or body could be covered up with shirts. Visible bruises on the skin could sometimes be masked with enough concealer if Kitae managed to control the swelling. It was amazing how unaware people at school were of how piss poor his home life was. The truly amazing thing was that no one at his school was aware how poor he was in the first time.
Kitae was very careful about the part time jobs he got though. Only things that didn't put him in a customer service position where people could see him. He was fine working behind the scenes, in low lit offices, or warehouses with late hours that kept him away from home for longer. It meant that keeping up with his studies was difficult, and he almost never got enough sleep, but it was worth it. It also meant he could afford nice clothing and beauty products to keep him looking nice. The sole beautiful object in a ruined house.
It also meant he was criticized constantly for not contributing to the household. Disgusting, a grown man and woman trying to feed off a teenage boy.
He ripped a piece of toilet paper free to dab at his bottom lip, wincing some at the pain. At least it was winter now, and the dry weather gave him some leeway with excuses.
Still, he could hear the beast raging downstairs below him, drunk and just as angry as he was before. With a small sigh Kitae pulled out his cellphone, staring blankly at the screen as he quickly scrolled through his contacts to decide which of his friends would be given the honor of letting him stay at their place tonight.
He needed to get out of here. Not just tonight, but forever. Soon... soon he'd be out of high school, and he could get into a SKY university. He would leave these pathetic, dirt covered failures behind and never look back.
The whole place was falling apart around him. The furniture was threadbare, and the cushions so worn that even reupholstering them wouldn't help their current condition. Besides, the owners of this house didn't have the money for something like that. They didn't have the money to fix the constantly dripping in the kitchen sink, or the flooding of the toilet on the first floor (the toilet no one was allowed to use anymore). The didn't have the funds to redo the faulty wiring that would probably set this whole pathetic building on fire. And god knows when it did it would collapse in seconds with the support structures ready to crumble to nothing at any moment.
The people in this house were falling apart too, rotting away into nothing. The woman, Kitae's mother, barely left her room. She didn't like to deal with people out of the house, but then again she didn't like to deal with people in the house either. She was a small, cowardly woman who barely spoke to her own son. When she saw him she would try to quickly slink unseen into another room. When she was caught and cornered her conversation never went past meek and shallow inquiries about how he was doing in school. Why she bothered to ask Kitae could never guess, it wasn't as if she really cared what her son was doing with his life. If it was up to her she'd live in this house alone. Away from the son that reminded her she had a responsibility she never wanted. Away from her drunk of a husband with the temper of a child.
He wasn't Kitae's father. That wasn't Kitae's attempt to disconnect himself from a drunken idiot, it was simply the truth. Though his mom barely spoke to him she did share this secret with Kitae once when he was nine, including producing a well hidden picture of the man behind his existence.
The resemblance was undeniable, and instead of feeling like his world was being torn apart by this sudden revelation Kitae felt relief. Deep, immediate relief that this man he'd spent most of his life hating wasn't related to him by blood.
Then again, that lack of resemblance was probably why Sohn Hoseong started hitting Kitae in the first place.
The fact that Kitae couldn't manage to be in a room with Sohn Hoseong for longer than five minutes without insulting him is probably why the blows kept coming well into his teenage years.
Not taking his eyes off his own reflection in the mirror, Kitae reached up and slowly ran a thumb over the massive slip in his bottom lip. This one wouldn't be as easy to cover up as some of the bruises he got. Anything on his arms or body could be covered up with shirts. Visible bruises on the skin could sometimes be masked with enough concealer if Kitae managed to control the swelling. It was amazing how unaware people at school were of how piss poor his home life was. The truly amazing thing was that no one at his school was aware how poor he was in the first time.
Kitae was very careful about the part time jobs he got though. Only things that didn't put him in a customer service position where people could see him. He was fine working behind the scenes, in low lit offices, or warehouses with late hours that kept him away from home for longer. It meant that keeping up with his studies was difficult, and he almost never got enough sleep, but it was worth it. It also meant he could afford nice clothing and beauty products to keep him looking nice. The sole beautiful object in a ruined house.
It also meant he was criticized constantly for not contributing to the household. Disgusting, a grown man and woman trying to feed off a teenage boy.
He ripped a piece of toilet paper free to dab at his bottom lip, wincing some at the pain. At least it was winter now, and the dry weather gave him some leeway with excuses.
Still, he could hear the beast raging downstairs below him, drunk and just as angry as he was before. With a small sigh Kitae pulled out his cellphone, staring blankly at the screen as he quickly scrolled through his contacts to decide which of his friends would be given the honor of letting him stay at their place tonight.
He needed to get out of here. Not just tonight, but forever. Soon... soon he'd be out of high school, and he could get into a SKY university. He would leave these pathetic, dirt covered failures behind and never look back.